Avatar Reborn, Book 1: Home
by EastTowneGurus
Summary: After Aang Yangchen's parents died, nobody saw him for two years. Now he's back home, and he's trying to find out why it all happened. But he isn't the only one with problems. Modern AU. Multi-arc. Language, violence. ON INDEFINITE HIATUS.
1. Prologue: Dear Diary

**Doctor Worm: Hi there, everybody. Name's Doctor Worm. Me and my colleague MspltChwdr (pronounced Misspelled Chowder, long story) are the East Towne Gurus. Check out our profile for stuff about us.  
**

**This is a modern AU retelling of Avatar, but a crapload of stuff has been changed around. Some characters are very different, some are very much the same, and the plot may go in directions you didn't expect. But we hope you like it. Our idea was to make it as original as possible while still maintaining a connection to the plot of the original.  
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**Oh, and here's the fun part: You want to know if there's character death, or what shippings there are, or anything like that? Well, too bad. You'll just have to read to find out. You will see some Zutara in the opening chapter, and you will also notice some Kataang. Give other ships a chance, people. We think the whole shipping war with Avatar is kind of immature.**

**I don't know how often we'll be able to update this. This is our first story on the site, so... yeah. And the story is kinda big, so it will probably take _quite_ a while to get through it all. If we even _do_ get through it all. Here's hoping.**

**Our hope is to divide this into five books. This is Book 1: Home. So throw everything you know about Avatar out the window, and enjoy. And please review. We would love your feedback, and we want to know if we should continue the story. But no flames, please.**

**Disclaimer:** I'm only saying this once at the beginning of each book: We don't own the rights to _Avatar: The Last Airbender_, the characters, the settings, or anything related.

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_**Avatar: Reborn  
Book 1: Home**_

Dear Diary,

School starts on Monday, and I'm not looking forward to it. I remember when things used to be a lot more peaceful here in Ba Sing Se. Gang wars notwithstanding, the squabbles between the martial arts schools in town are big enough to bring the police in from time to time. This city is starting to rot, and it all began right after Aang left.

I don't think I've ever told you about him before. Aang Yangchen was one of my best friends. Kind of on the short side, with short, messy black hair and a _big_ smile. He always seemed to be able to brighten anyone's day with it. He used to hang out with me, Sokka, and Zuko all the time. But a little over two years ago, his house burned down. His parents died in the fire, and his grandfather took him out of town right away. By the time I had heard what had happened, he was gone.

I haven't seen Aang since. God, I miss him. Without him around, we all began to change. Sokka began to lose his sense of humor, I've become much more anxious and stressed about everything, and Zuko started to act like his sister Azula. I feel like Zuko was the way he used to be only because Aang had been around. If Aang hadn't left, he wouldn't have done what he did. If he had stayed, I probably never would have broken up with Zuko.

Soon after Aang left, I started taking Tai Chi at Tui La, a small school in town. At first it was just for stress relief, but now I've been trying to put as much effort into it as Aang did with his Ba Gua. I guess I'm trying to make him proud of me.

Shifu Roku's Four Elements Ba Gua Zhang closed down soon after Aang left. They were the biggest martial arts school in town, which is saying something in a city as obsessed with the martial arts as Ba Sing Se. Aang was Roku's star pupil and a Ba Gua protegé. Since the age of twelve, he won them national attention with his performances in competitions competitions and his impressive fights at Lei Tai (A/N: Full contact sparring) tournaments. With him gone, they began to lose membership, until Roku simply vanished one day, and the building was bought by Kevin Zhao, who renamed it the Black Sun Karate Dojo. Zuko and his sister quickly became the top students, and the school quickly surpassed all the others in town in terms of sheer size.

But I've been there before, and I've seen how they work. They don't see the martial arts as a form of meditation or self-defense. They act like soldiers. To them, Karate is all about the quickest way to incapacitate or kill an enemy, and nothing more. I just wish that Zuko hadn't joined. It made him even worse.

Sokka says that we'll never see Aang again. But I haven't lost hope. I still believe that somehow, someday, Aang will come back to us. We need him. I ne-

Dear diary,

I just got a letter from Gyatso. He and Aang are coming home.

Katara Kuruk  
August 18, 2011  
Ba Sing Se, CA


	2. Chapter 1: Wake Up Call

_**Chapter 1: Wake-Up Call**_

Time: 5:00 AM  
Date: August 22, 2011  
Target Location: Upper hallway of Kuruk family home  
Mission: Prank kids on the first day of school. Simple enough.

United States Navy Captain Hakoda Kuruk leaped out of his bed at the beeping of his alarm clock. Rubbing his eyes, he glanced at the time. It read 5:00. "Perfect," he whispered to himself, smiling. The sun had barely begun to rise, and Hakoda could just hear the sound of a few birds chirping quietly on the large tree that sat behind their two-story house. He looked out the window at it and remembered the times, years ago, when his son would climb out the window of his room and onto the branches of the tree. He loved to get outside that way when he was little. Now his two kids were growing up. Today was the first day of Katara and Sokka's senior year of high school, and Hakoda wasn't about to let them forget it.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to work, tiptoeing out of his room, down the hallway past his kids' rooms, and stopping in his mother-in-law's room to place a pair of high-quality firing range ear-mufflers on her head before continuing down into the den. He hadn't bothered to shower or change out of the blue t-shirt and woolen pants that he had slept in, and he could smell it when he raised his arms to open the cabinet doors of their large entertainment center. Ignoring the stench filling his nostrils, he bent down to examine the stereo system. After a couple seconds of figuring out where all the wires connected, Hakoda began to pull them out of the wall until the stereo box and the large sub-woofers that Sokka had bought over the summer were completely free of their corded prison. Then began the arduous task of lugging all the equipment upstairs and into the hallway right between his son's and daughter's rooms. He started with one sub-woofer, then the other, then the box, and finally the mass of tangled cords. When he had finally reassembled the set in the hallway and taken a shower, he checked his watch. 5:30. It had taken longer than he had thought. No matter, though: it was still far earlier than they needed to wake up. Good.

Hakoda retrieved a CD case from the den and had quickly found what he was looking for: a home-recorded disc marked "Reveille." (A/N: "Reveille" is an army wake-up call. With a very loud bugle.) With mock solemnity, he knelt before the stereo and held the disc in the air, like a priest making an offering at a sacrificial altar. Then he opened the disc tray on the stereo, snapped the CD inside, and turned the volume knob up to its maximum setting. He took a moment to breathe in his surroundings. He looked at Sokka's door, covered in humorous bumper stickers that Sokka was never able to remove and a sign hanging from a nail that read: "Brain out to lunch. Will be back...never." Then he looked at his daughter Katara's door, blank save for a single poster of a popular indie group called Chong's Nomads. She loved listening to their poetic songs about love and loss. Sokka couldn't stand them. Hakoda turned back to the stereo and sighed as memories of their childhood washed through his mind, along with one thought: _I love being a dad_.

He hit the "play" button and covered his ears as the trumpeting began.

"Aaaah!" came a scream from Katara's room, followed by a thud. Hakoda winced. She had probably fallen out of bed. Then he heard her shout, "Dad! Not funny!"

Hakoda was surprised that he hadn't heard anything from Sokka. He looked towards Sokka's room to see the end of Sokka's sharpened boomerang jutting out of the door. Then he started laughing.

"This isn't the army!" came Sokka's exasperated cry from behind the door.

Hakoda tried to stop laughing as he turned off the stereo. "Up and at 'em, troops!" he said. "First day of senior year! Oh, and Sokka, _navy_, not army."

Sokka's door flew open to reveal a disheveled seventeen-year-old boy in an undershirt and boxers looking extremely annoyed. His messy brown hair, usually worn in a ponytail, was sticking up in every direction, and his entire look was of someone who had gotten up on the wrong side of the bed. He stared angrily at his father for a few seconds, then sauntered to the bathroom to take a shower. Hakoda decided to wait downstairs for them.

After about fifteen minutes, Sokka came rumbling down the stairs, in full "first day of school, gotta impress" mode, wearing a tight-fitting white and blue t-shirt and blue shorts that showed off the muscles he had been building over the summer. Hakoda rolled his eyes. A while later, his twin sister followed, dressed in a sleeveless blue blouse and jeans, and with her hair up in a way that made Hakoda beam. It was an Inuit hair style that Katara's late mother taught her about. She had most of her hair tied back in a long braid, with a small bun at the top of the braid. In front, two smaller braids hung down from her bangs, and were pinned at the ends to the bun in back. Sokka and Hakoda called the little braids "hair loopies." Katara looked just like her mother when she wore her hair like that.

Katara noticed her father staring at her. "What?" she asked. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Hakoda replied, smiling broadly. "I'm just a bit surprised that you took the time to do your hair up for the first day of school. You only do that on special occasions. Am I missing something here?"

Katara smiled knowingly as she poured herself a bowl of cereal and sat down to eat. She hadn't told either of them about the letter she had received. "You'll have to wait and see," she said.

Sokka stopped plowing through his own breakfast to raise an eyebrow at her. "This doesn't involve Zuko, does it?" he accused, with a mouth full of cereal.

"No!" she snapped back at him. "I told you both, I broke up with him! We're through! I'm never having anything to do with him again. God, Sokka, why would you even think that?"

Sokka just shrugged, and went back to eating, satisfied. Hakoda relaxed a bit. He was glad Katara had stopped seeing Zuko Sozin, and was even more glad to hear that the very idea made her sick. The boy was bad news, just like his sister. Their father was a bad influence on them, he was sure. Senator Ozai Sozin was a crafty one. In spite of, or perhaps because of, Hakoda's love for his country, the one group of people he would never trust was politicians, and the one time Hakoda had met Ozai had left him with a bad taste in his mouth. But politics aside, Zuko had hurt Katara. The scum didn't deserve to have her back. Not now, and not ever.

Katara was annoyed at her brother's comment, but she wouldn't let it get her down. Not today. Not when Aang was back home. "Sokka, finish up," she said, dumping her cereal into the garbage. "We have to go." She pulled her keys out of her pocket and grabbed her backpack.

"What? Why?" Sokka whined.

Katara replied, "Because I need to get to school as soon as possible and I'm not letting you slow me down."

Sokka sighed. "Fine. But I'm bringing the cereal with me."

She practically dragged him out the door.

Hakoda began to scratch his beard, lost in thought. _She seemed excited. I wonder what's happening?_

He decided that if it was important, he'd find out eventually, and went to make himself and his mother-in-law some eggs.


	3. Chapter 2: The Rising Sun

_**Chapter 2: The Rising Sun**_

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

A hand slammed down on the snooze button and its owner groaned. He had to go to school today. He wasn't looking forward to it. Going back to school meant seeing Katara again, and the last thing that he wanted was another confrontation. He still hated himself for what he did. He blamed himself for driving her away.

"Zuko," his older sister's icy voice said from the intercom by the door, "Up. Now."

Zuko Sozin sighed as he kicked the sheets off of his bed and stumbled to the bathroom to take a shower. The hot water began to wake him up, and he thought about why it happened. It was all because of Aang. He brought a simple happiness to all their lives. It always seemed that nothing could get him down, and as long as he had anything to say about it, nothing would get his friends down either. But once he left, everything went bad, like none of them could function without him. Zuko's arguments with his father got worse. He didn't know what to do with all the anger inside of him. He started to take classes at Black Sun to relieve the stress, but Zhao's constant insulting and comparing him to his sister just made it worse.

His sister... Azula Sozin was a monster. Controlling, charismatic, and sociopathic, Azula knew how to take someone apart both physically and mentally. She was a bully throughout her childhood, and she had grown to be just like their father. Unfortunately for Zuko, whenever their father was away on business, Azula, being the elder of the two, was left in charge. Ozai would ignore Zuko when he was around, but Azula would torture Zuko when he wasn't. And Zuko didn't know which was worse. At least Azula acknowledged him. His father, unless they were arguing, acted like he didn't exist.

Ozai Sozin had been a Californian senator for nearly thirty years. An independent candidate, Ozai used his natural charisma and his great skills as a public speaker to win hearts and votes. Pundits called him a political televangelist, and in many ways he was. But that persona was a ruse. At home he was cold, unfeeling, and distant. In front of the cameras, he seemed like he wanted to reach out to the world, but at home, he constantly pushed his own son away. Maybe he blamed Zuko for killing his wife. She died giving birth to him.

Zuko felt a pang of guilt. He tried to let the hot water wash away his anger and worry. But it didn't work.

All too quickly, Zuko got to the kitchen, dressed in black jeans and a black T-shirt. He had dressed in black since Katara left him. The clothes, mixed with the long, black hair that he let cover his left eye, gave him quite the first impression on people.

Azula laughed out loud when she saw him. She did this all the time. It was yet another way that she tried to make him doubt himself. And it worked. His self-esteem had been at an all-time low over the summer, and Azula did everything within her power to make sure it stayed that way.

"Again with the emo look, Zuzu?" she snickered at him.

"Fuck off, Azula!" Zuko snapped back.

She began to walk towards him, that cold, calculating smile frozen on her lips. "Look, I'm only saying that you need to stop dressing like you're about to slit your wrists. People will be creeped out. Not that you weren't creepy already." She stopped right in front of him.

"I don't give a damn what you-"

But Zuko didn't get to finish his sentence, because Azula chose that moment to sweep his legs out from under him. He hit the ground hard. "What the hell was that for?" he shouted.

"Come on, Zuzu, you know what Sensei Zhao always says. Always be on your guard. If you ever want to catch up to me, you have to stop being so weak. Don't ever let your guard down."

"What does that have to do with school?" he growled back.

"Nothing," she replied. "You're just too easy to mess with."

Zuko shot her a glare as he stood up and headed for the garage. He had nothing to say to her now. He just wanted to leave, to get the day over with. She followed him through their large mansion, not saying a word. She just wanted to make him feel uncomfortable. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally reached the garage door, and was about to leave when Azula chose to deliver her final verbal volley.

"Say hi to Katara for me."


	4. Chapter 3: Cold Sweat

**Doctor Worm: Ok, final "waking up" chapter. Next one's their first day.**

**Please review. Anon review is turned on for this. Feedback tells us that people are reading.**

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_**Chapter 3: Cold Sweat  
**_

Aang didn't know what was going on. He was just watching a movie at Katara and Sokka's house. Why were there police cars showing up? Why were they here? Wait, they wanted _him?_ Why? He hadn't done anything. They took him outside and away from the house where his friends gazed at him in worry from the window. He looked back to smile and wave, like everything was going to be okay. He heard Hakoda running out the front door, yelling at the police. But one of the officers whispered something to him, and he suddenly looked... sad. He ran to Aang and hugged him, saying he was sorry.

Two of the policemen put Aang in the back seat of the car and drove away. Where were they going?

Wait, was that his house? It looked like it could have been, once. But now it was just a burnt, blackened skeleton of its former self. No, this wasn't right. Why was it gone? Where were his parents?

Aang saw himself moving towards the wreckage. His mind was going blank. He floated past the fire trucks, through the yellow tape, and towards a group of paramedics huddled around a pair of stretchers by the ambulance. He saw body bags. He stood amongst the paramedics, frozen in time, as he stared blankly at the two stretchers. A policeman placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, kid." The man sighed. "They're gone." His trance broke, and all the voices of the policemen, the paramedics, the firefighters, and the bystanders began to flood his mind.

"...What happened..."

"...God, I knew them..."

"...Did you hear it..."

"...Anything he can **see**..."

"...Aang? Oh my God! Aang..."

"...Bring those over there..."

"...**See**..."

"..._Heh heh heh_..."

Laughing? Who was laughing? Aang whirled around to see his grandfather running toward him with a look of anguish in his eyes. No, it wasn't his grandfather...

"..._Heh heh heh..._"

He glanced at the police officers and paramedics, all busy, all working, all solemn. No, it wasn't them, either...

"..._Heh heh heh heh_..."

He doubled over in pain, and started to vomit. Looking down, he noticed that a disgusting black centipede was coiled up at his feet, its head craned up towards his own. It was... laughing at him.

"NO!" Aang awoke in a cold sweat. He was in his new room in his and Gyatso's new apartment. It was a dream. That damned nightmare. That damned centipede.

"Aang, are you okay?" called Gyatso from the other side of the bedroom door. He sounded worried. "Aang?"

"I'm fine, Grandpa," Aang sighed. "Just... a bad dream."

There was a tangible silence as Gyatso entered the room. Aang knew that Gyatso understood. It was _that_ dream again.

"Do you still want to go today?" his grandfather finally asked him.

"Yeah," Aang answered. "I have to start sometime."

Gyatso looked worried, but he nodded. "I understand. Well, then, get dressed. I'll let you borrow the car." He left Aang to get ready.

Aang wiped the sweat off of his face. He needed to get a grip. He was going to see his friends again. Today might be his first truly happy day in years.

He rolled out of bed.


	5. Chapter 4: The Protege Returns

_**Chapter 4: The Protegé Returns**_

"Katara, I want to know what's going on," Sokka said to her as they threw their things in their lockers at Ba Sing Se Central High. She hadn't said a word to him since they had left, and she was really excited about something, but he couldn't figure out what. He hadn't seen her this worked up over anything in ages. "You're acting kinda weird."

In response, Katara simply smiled at Sokka and said one word: "Aang."

Sokka stared at her, mouth hanging open. "Aang?"

"Yes," she replied. "He's back."

Sokka was shocked. "You're serious?"

"Yes."

Sokka broke into a manic grin. "Where is he?"

"I don't know," Katara replied. "But the office does. And we both have first period free. So..."

Before she got a chance to finish, Sokka took off down the hall, leaving her to try to catch up. After two years, they were finally going to find Aang.

-.-.-.-

Zuko was relieved that he had first period free on Mondays. That meant a little more time for him to be alone, a little less time having to deal with people. He soon found himself aimlessly wandering through the hallways. Most people were either in a class or hanging out in the cafeteria and catching up with old friends, so the hallways were a great place to find some room to think.

Of course, for him, thinking meant thinking about Katara. He knew he had hurt her, but he still blamed her for part of it. Why couldn't she help him? Why couldn't any of them help him? The mere sight of Katara used to be enough to make him forget his troubles. But not anymore. Once Aang left, it changed. When Zuko would get angry, nothing seemed to be able to calm him down. He made some bad choices. He started hanging out with James Muramoto and his gang, the "Freedom Fighters," a local group of troublemakers. They all had codenames for each other. James was "Jet." They called Zuko "The Prince," a crack at his father. He racked up a criminal record. And then he started to vent his anger at Katara. He even tried to make her... No. He wouldn't think about that. He felt too ashamed.

"Hey, Zuko, long time, no see!" a voice from behind him said in a genial tone. This got him angry. Some joker was trying to get on his nerves. He must have a death wish. He chose to ignore the comment, though. He tried to keep walking.

"C'mon, talk to me!" the voice continued. "How's Katara?"

That did it. No one mocked him about _that_ and left unmolested. Without a word, Zuko whipped around, grabbed the boy by the collar and slammed him against a locker, and got his first look at him. The thing that stood out to Zuko the most was the woolen cap the boy was wearing. The design... he had seen it somewhere before. But he ignored it. He glared into the kid's eyes.

"Look, kid," Zuko growled, "Don't play with fire. You might get burned." The boy's face was twisted into an expression of pain and confusion. Zuko quickly sized him up. Skinny, but with definite muscles hiding there. The kid could fight, maybe. But he couldn't take Zuko on. Nobody could but Azula, Sokka... and Aang. So he was genuinely surprised when the kid knocked his hand away and circled around behind him, quick as lightning. Before he knew it, the boy's hand was resting on his spine. Zuko tried to spin around to face him, but the boy remained behind him, silently countering every step he took.

Zuko's anger and frustration was turning into rage. He sent a kick straight back, but the kid dodged it. Unfortunately for the kid, he broke his hold on Zuko to do so. Zuko turned to attack again, but he never got a chance to. A fist connected with the side of his head and sent him sprawling. It wasn't the kid's fist.

He looked up off of the floor to see Sokka standing over him, looking furious. "Zuko, what the hell?" he shouted. "What is your fucking problem? I ought to kill you!"

Zuko took a second to look at the boy that he had been fighting. Katara was hugging him. Hugging him? Was she behind all this? Did she send him to make a fool out of Zuko?

"Thank God you're okay," Zuko heard her say to the boy. "I'm so sorry this happened, Aang."

That design on the boy's hat, that blue arrow, finally registered in Zuko's mind. Aang. It was Aang. Oh, God. Not Aang. He tried to hurt Aang. No. NO.

"No," he whispered. "No, there's no way-"

"You'd better leave," Sokka hissed at Zuko. "Now."

He ran.

-.-.-.-

Aang sat on the ground and crossed his legs. He was still shocked over what happened. "I don't get it," he said. "Zuko couldn't... Why did he do that?"

Katara knelt down and put an arm around his shoulders. "Zuko's changed," she said. "He's lost."

"He'd better stay lost," Sokka shouted down the hall in the direction Zuko ran off, "'cause if I find him, he's dead!"

Aang's eyes began to well up. "This can't be happening." He looked at Katara. "How could you let this happen?"

She looked hurt. "I tried to stop it," she said, "but he wouldn't let me help. He needed you."

"Damn it!" Aang shouted. "If only I could have stayed..." He pulled off his cap and ran his fingers through his hair. This was wrong. Zuko was their friend.

"I should have been there."

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**Doctor Worm****: Welcome to Aangst-land. Population: Freaking EVERYBODY.**

**Oh, and Sokka has a potty mouth. I may change that later. Tell me what you think about that and, well, everything else, in a... REVIEW!**


	6. Chapter 5: Catching Up

_**Chapter 5: Catching Up**_

"Good afternoon, everybody," said the bald, fifty-something, surpisingly fit, eccentric-looking man at the head of the class. "I am Mr. Zei, and this is World Mythology."

"Oh, boy," Katara mumbled to herself, head laying on her desk. "This class is gonna suck."

"Stink," corrected Aang from the seat next to her. "And why?"

She smiled at his sarcastic attempt to correct her bad language. "Mr. Zei's supposed to be real uptight with grades. Essays are given out all the time, and you'll be lucky if he gives you a B- on a perfect paper."

Aang cringed slightly. Katara was glad that she had a class with him, even if it was Mr. Zei's class. At least it was final period. That would give them more time to catch up.

"Now, class," Mr. Zei continued, "This year we will be learning about legends and stories of different cultures, and both mythical heroes and religious figures, such as Siddhartha Gautama and Jesus Christ. Do not mistake this for a religious class, however. These will be studied from a literary standpoint, and no further. First Amendment and all that." He cracked a smile. "We will pay great attention to the peculiar similarities between vastly different cultures and myths. You're going to get an introduction to what we will be doing this year by looking at different myths about early humanity. Specifically, the introduction of man to fire. We're going to begin with the story of Prometheus. So, let's get right into it. Open your notebooks..."

Aang paid only vague attention to the class from that point onward. He and Katara were too busy writing notes to each other.

Katara began by scribbling down something on her notebook and pointing it toward him. "How U doing?" it said.

Aang wrote down a message in his own notebook. "Fine."

Aang didn't seem fine. He hadn't smiled since the day began. "C'mon," wrote Katara.

"Prometheus," Mr. Zei began, "in a nutshell, was a god who stole the gift of fire from the other gods and gave it to man, thus planting the seeds of civilization..."

"Zuko's on my mind." Aang wrote.

"I'm sorry," Katara wrote. There was a pause, and she added, "Why did U leave?"

"Grandpa lives out of town. I had to go live w/ him."

"Why didn't U write?"

After reading that, Aang sighed. He scribbled a note. "Didn't have time."

Katara felt like he was avoiding something. "Why didn't U call?" Then she added, at the bottom, "2 years."

Aang looked down. "Forgot," he scribbled.

She knew that was a lie. "Why did U come back?"

Aang didn't look at her. He didn't answer.

Neither of them wrote anything else for a while.

"...was punished by Zeus, who tied him to a rock while an eagle ate his liver, which would regenerate and be eaten again every day..."

Finally, Aang jotted something down. "You guys are why."

Katara smiled. But Aang looked like he wasn't telling her everything. "Want to talk later?" she wrote.

"...freed by Hercules, according to _Prometheus Unbound_..."

Aang looked at her again. "Yes," he whispered.

An eternity later, the bell rang.

-.-.-.-

Katara had always loved the beach. Ever since she was a child, she would always come down to the shoreline whenever she needed to think long and hard about something. So when she knew that Aang had something to talk about, that was naturally the best place Katara could think of to have a conversation, and within a few hours, they found themselves walking there.

The beach was relatively empty: the sun was going down, the sky was darkening, and the tourists were beginning to go back to their hotels. So there wasn't much to distract them as they strode, bare-foot and hand in hand, across the shoreline, feeling the warm breeze on their faces and the water washing up against their ankles. Aang found it somewhat relaxing, but he couldn't take his mind off what he both did and didn't want to tell Katara. _Does she really need to know? Or should I save her the worry?_

He thought back to that day...

--

_The police station was uninviting. The lights were too bright, there were too many people around, and the noise was unbearable. It was not the place for a fifteen-year-old boy who was just coming out of shock from the death of his family. He was sitting in a chair in an office, leaning on his grandfather, whose hand was gently rubbing his back in an attempt to calm him. The tears wouldn't stop coming._

_Finally, the door of the office opened and an officer came in. He looked at Aang with an expression of pity and then sat down on the desk in front of him._

_"The report came in," he said to Gyatso._

_Gyatso looked up. "What caused the fire?" he asked._

_The man looked down, and said very slowly, "It was a gas leak. It sparked and the whole house started."_

_Aang tensed up and, between sobs, sputtered, "No. That can't be right. We didn't-"_

_"Kid, I'm sorry," the officer said. "I know it's hard."_

_"No!" Aang shouted. "You don't get it! We don't-"_

_The police officer knelt down and looked Aang right in the eyes. Then he said, in a shaky voice that sounded both ashamed and afraid, "Kid, it was a gas leak. Do you understand?"_

_Seeing the fear in the man's face, Aang nodded. A voice filled his mind._

_"...Heh heh heh heh..."_

_--_

"Aang? You haven't said anything in almost an hour."

Katara's voice snapped Aang out of his trance. He let go of her hand and sat on the ground. "I was thinking... about Zuko," he lied.

She looked down. "Oh."

Aang's lie became genuine interest. "What happened to you two? I thought you would be together forever."

Katara sighed. "I did too. But after you left, he started to change. It started with little things. I noticed he was smiling less, he became quieter for a while, but then it kind of erupted. He started fighting with his sister more. He started to go to Black Sun, the place that used to be Roku's school. Then he began hanging out with... the wrong crowd."

"Who?" Aang asked.

"Jet," Katara answered.

Aang's eyes widened. "Oh."

A tear fell down Katara's cheek. "I don't know what happened. He just started to become something I didn't recognize. The first time I saw him pull a knife on someone, I knew that he was slipping away. It's like you were his conscience or something, and he couldn't survive on his own."

Aang looked up at her despairingly. "I didn't know. I didn't know I was that important."

She wiped the tears from her face and looked him in the eyes. "You are."

And a loud silence filled the air. If not for the wind blowing through their hair and clothes, they would have seemed like statues, gazing into each other's eyes for an eternity as Katara's simple statement burned itself into their minds.

Aang finally broke the silence. "So that's it?" he asked her. "You ended it there?"

Katara broke eye contact and looked off to the side. "No," she said. "I thought I could help him. I tried everything. But nothing worked. Sokka didn't trust him. Even my father didn't trust him, and you know how he always liked Zuko." Aang nodded. She continued, "He was scaring me. I felt like I didn't know him anymore. The final straw came at the end of last year." She shut her eyes tightly. Whatever it was, Aang could see that it was painful.

Katara sat on the sand next to Aang, and buried her face in her arms. Her voice was failing her. "He tried to get me to..." She couldn't finish the sentence. She tried again. "He wanted me to..." Aang could see the pain twisted in her face. "He wanted us to..." She couldn't say it, but it didn't take Aang long to understand what she was trying to say. He put his arm around her and hugged her close.

"I told him that I wasn't ready, but that just made him angry. He started to yell at me, but not about that. It was all about how I wasn't there to help him, how he had no one to talk to, and how I didn't care anymore, how his dad was right about me. I didn't want to know what his dad thought of me. I got so mad that I hit him. Slapped him across the face. He looked shocked, and then he turned around and ran out of my house. He looked so hurt. I still worry about him every time I see him. But it's over between us. I can't be there for him anymore. There's no-" Her voice faltered, and she was overcome with tears. She buried her head in Aang's chest as she cried. "He's just so confused... And I tried so hard to help him..."

"I'm sorry," Aang whispered, rocking her back and forth to calm her.

"It's not your fault," she managed to say between sobs.

"I think it is," he replied. "Like you said, it's like I was his conscience. None of this would have happened if I hadn't left."

Unable to speak, Katara just shook her head.

Aang allowed himself to smile slightly. "Maybe things can go back to the way they were," he offered. "Maybe Zuko can come back to us."

Katara's crying slowly subsided. She sat up and looked at him with her bloodshot eyes. "That would take a miracle," she whimpered.

_Then let's hope for a miracle,_ Aang thought.

"It's been really hard," she said. "First you left, then my mom, then Zuko..." The tears began to flow again.

"Your mom? What happened?"

But Katara couldn't tell him. She leaned on him and kept crying, and he held her there. He hated seeing Katara like this. They sat like that for half an hour longer. The sky was black, the clouds were dark, and the only glimmer of light came from the sliver of a crescent moon peeking out from behind the clouds. The sound of the rushing waves began to calm Katara down. It always had.

Suddenly, Katara remembered something. "We came here to talk about you, but we've just been talking about me. What did you want to tell me?"

Aang thought about it, but decided that now was not the time. "It doesn't matter right now," he said. Their eyes met again, and he assured her:

"You're more important."

* * *

**Doctor Worm:** **I love writing. I really do. And writing Avatar fanfic is a hell of a lot easier when you own DVD box sets of all three seasons. I love my DVD box sets. I really do.  
**

**So something cool happened. If you've read our profile, you know that we both study Northern Shaolin, a.k.a. Firebending. Sifu Kisu is a friend of our Shifu (that's how we pronounce and spell "Sifu"), and so he came to our guan (think "dojo") to do a seminar last Friday. That was October 17, 2008. I couldn't go to the seminar because my family was leaving town for the weekend, but MspltChwdr went to go watch, and he gave Kisu one of his own shirts to be autographed to me. Chwdr, you rock.**

**According to Kisu, he's being screwed over by Bryke right now. They're playing down his role in the series, not giving him credit for all the stuff he's done. Don't quote me on this, but it's things like "He only did motion capture every once in a while" when, in reality, every single punch and kick for every character was captured from his filmed movements except for Aang (his son did the capture for that) and Toph (Sifu Manuel Rodriguez. Look him up on YouTube, by the way. He's awesome). Hollywood and fame is swelling Bryke's head.**

**Also, a bit of live action Avatar movie news: According to Kisu, they hired the guy who worked on the fights in the Bourne movies. I shit you not. I DON'T WANT TO SEE AANG STRANGLING PEOPLE WITH PHONE CORDS. For Christ's sake, hire the guy from the Matrix movies if you absolutely HAVE to use someone other than Kisu. This has me worried that they're just going to be using American Karate for the fight scenes. If they don't use Shaolin, Hung Gar, Tai Chi, and Ba Gua for the bending, I'm not going to watch the movies. Also, something about the choice tells me that the movie is just going to be one fight scene after another with, like, two lines of dialogue between each, kind of like the Jackie Chan / Jet Li movie _The Forbidden Kingdom_. That was god-awful shit. And it means that the world will probably never get to see a live-action Toph. (Sigh...)**

**Sifu Kisu, if you're reading this, the East Towne Gurus are on your side.**

**And last, but not least... REVIEW PLEASE!**


	7. Chapter 6: Deep Talking

**Doctor Worm: Hey, everyone. Sorry this took so long. We had to figure out some things about how the story was going to progress before we wrote anything else. And we did that.**

**Also, Chapter 5 was re-written a few days ago. Go back and read it again to make sure that you've read the new version. It's been changed quite a bit.  
**

* * *

_**Chapter 6: Deep-Talking**_

The school day went even worse than Zuko thought it was going to be. For the love of God, he had tried to beat up Aang! And then Karate class just made his day even more horrible. Zhao had him spar with Azula again. She always beat him, and no matter how good he got, she was always one step ahead of him in skill. And it wasn't enough for her to simply beat him; she taunted and demeaned him as they fought, and she never let him keep his dignity when she won. Zuko often thought that she and Zhao would run off together at some point. They were alike in so many ways.

He had to get away from it all, and that meant he had to go to Gaoling Park. That's where his friends were. That's where the Freedom Fighters hung out. Zuko still didn't know why they called themselves the Freedom Fighters; they were anything _but_ freedom fighters. Jet and his gang of misfits picked fights and engaged in petty theft and vandalism all around town. They were relatively harmless, though, when compared with the real gangs in Ba Sing Se. The Freedom Fighters were more like neighborhood delinquents.

It was already night by the time Zuko found three bomber-jacket-clad teenagers sitting in the park. Daniel and Jake, a.k.a. Pipsqueak and The Duke, were nowhere to be found, but Zuko found Jet sitting on a bench by the bike path, staring intently at Evan and Jessica – _no_, Zuko corrected himself, _Longshot and Smellerbee_ – who were passionately trying to eat each other's faces on the bench opposite him. Zuko quietly took a seat next to Jet.

"Good to see ya, Prince," said Jet, not bothering to turn to look at him, hell-bent on continuing to stare at the pair of lovers.

"Hey," said Zuko, slightly confused. "You know, it's not polite to stare."

"Yeah, I know," Jet replied. "But I just can't look away. They've been going at this for a half an hour now. I'm trying to figure it out."

"Figure what out?" Zuko asked. "Why they're doing it? It's because they're both buckets of raging hormones, remember?"

"No, no, not that," Jet said, waving his hand at Zuko, but still staring. "I'm trying to figure out how they've been breathing."

Zuko took a minute to join Jet's study of the pair. After a while, he said, completely bewildered, "I have no idea."

"And the other thing that's been confusing me," continued Jet, "is that it's gone on for a _half hour_ and they haven't stripped down and started screwing."

Smellerbee flipped Jet the bird without breaking her kiss. Zuko laughed.

"C'mon, Jet." Zuko nudged Jet in the side. "I feel like deep-talking."

Jet finally turned to look at him. "Dude, why tonight?" he whined.

"Because Aang Yangchen is back," Zuko said flatly.

Jet's eyes widened. "Oh," he said. "Yeah. Let's go."

-.-.-.-

"So Yangchen is back?" Jet asked Zuko when they were out of earshot of the young lovers and walking along the bike path. "Jesus, I thought he was dead."

"He's not dead," Zuko growled, "he was living with his grandpa. C'mon, I told you this already."

"Yeah, but the general public thinks he's dead." Jet smiled. "And you know that they're always right."

"Jet, this is serious," Zuko said.

Jet rolled his eyes. "So your old buddy and girlfriend-advice guy is back. Holy shit, stop the fucking presses."

"Jet, I almost beat him up," Zuko mumbled.

Jet laughed. "You, beating Aang in a fight? Like that would ever happen."

"I didn't know it was him, and I completely caught him off-guard."

"You didn't hurt him, right?"

"No, Sokka made sure of that," Zuko said. "He's out to kill me."

"He's always out to kill you."

"Yeah..." Zuko remembered how Sokka used to be his friend. They always had each other's backs. Sokka wasn't the brightest kid in the world, but he was loyal to his friends and dagger-like to their enemies, and Zuko had turned himself into an enemy a long time ago.

"Why do you even care?" Jet asked. "The guy leaves for two years, and it's not like anyone else in your old group still hangs out with you."

"I don't care," Zuko defended. "Not that much..."

"Exactly. They're not your friends anymore. Get over it."

"Yeah... Maybe Zhao is right." Zuko's fists clenched as Zhao's name escaped his lips. "According to him, everyone is either an ally to be used or an enemy to be dealt with. He gives lectures about it all the time."

"Maybe he's right." Jet shrugged.

Zuko sighed. "Yeah." Then his anger from the day's class caught up with him. "I can't stand him! He always demeans me and humiliates me in front of the entire class, and he gives my sister opportunities to beat me up all the time."

"This is like the fiftieth time you've told me that. How long have you known the guy?"

"Six years. My dad hired him to teach Karate to Azula privately. Then he eventually bought Zhao his own school. Zhao never liked me, and he makes sure I remember that."

"So why don't you kick his ass?" Jet said.

"He's the instructor. If I want to learn how to fight, I have to put up with all his crap."

"Yeah, but you practice against Azula all the time, right?" Jet reasoned. "You've gotta be better than everyone else at this point."

"Well, yeah, I am," Zuko admitted. "But so what?"

"Fight him. Show him he can't push you around anymore. Dude, you're always so emo when you come here from your Karate class. It's hell for you. And you don't need those damned classes. You can fight. You've gotta stand up to him. You can even prove to Daddy that you're as good as Azula while you do."

Zuko thought about this. Azula was taking longer to beat him lately. He was getting better, and he knew for a fact that in a real fight, Azula was better than Zhao. Just a little bit better, but better nonetheless.

Jet looked at his watch. "Aw, crap, it's midnight. We were gonna go meet Pipsqueak and the Duke over by the mall and go raise some hell." Jet looked at Zuko with a devilish smile. He knew that Jet had some hairbrained plan to piss off the police again. "You coming?"

Zuko didn't feel like "raising hell" that night. "Nah. I'm gonna go get some sleep, think about tomorrow."

"God, man, you're such a pussy," Jet teased. "Afraid the cops are gonna catch us? They couldn't take down a twelve-year-old."

"Jet, don't start," Zuko warned. "Not tonight."

Jet put his hands up in feigned innocence. "All right, all right. You know, that's why I call you the Prince. You're always afraid to get down in the dirt with us common people." Jet turned around and started heading back. "I'm pretty sure Smeller-Shot back there has finished fucking by now. We're gonna get going. See ya around, Princey."

Zuko sighed. "See ya." He began to walk home alone, contemplating what Jet had said to him. _Fight Zhao? It might get him to respect me... The only thing that he listens to is violence. And it could be a way to prove to Dad how good I am at this. _His thoughts moved to his father. _I could show him. I can make him proud of me. Maybe I'm not as good as Azula yet, but if I beat Zhao..._

Zuko was so lost in thought that he didn't consciously notice when he got back to his family's mansion and into his bedroom. The act of sneaking in at night had become second nature to him, and it had become muscle memory over the years. As he dropped onto his bed, still fully clothed, the intercom in his room turned on.

"How was your midnight escapade, Zuzu?" Azula sneered through the speakers. "Break some more hearts?" Zuko groaned. She _had_ to make sure that he didn't get complacent. _She's always a step ahead,_ Zuko recited in his mind as he got up and muted his intercom console. Throwing himself back onto the bed, Zuko had one last thought before he fell asleep:

_Everyone is either an ally to be used or an enemy to be dealt with._

_My sister is my enemy._

_I guess, right now, Sokka is my enemy._

_But my biggest enemy, by far, is Kevin Zhao._

_I will deal with him._

* * *

**Doctor Worm: So, here's what's up: I went back and rewrote part of the previous chapter, namely, the paragraph where Katara tells Aang exactly how her relationship with Zuko ended and everything after that. Mostly it was because it originally sounded like something other than what it was. I'm not going into details. But we may go back and rewrite chapters as this thing progresses, to wipe out continuity errors. This is gonna be a five-arc story, with each arc containing quite a few plots, so it may get a bit hectic. If you notice any contradictions, let us know in a PM and we'll fix up one or both of the offending chapters.**


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